


Wet

by OnceUponADestiel (Jems_of_Grace)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon verse, Caring!Dean, Destiel - Freeform, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Oneshot, bunker!fic, dean/cas - Freeform, human!Cas, sorry no smut, wet!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 10:57:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3689664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jems_of_Grace/pseuds/OnceUponADestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas is newly human. He's only a couple of miles from the bunker but it's raining heavily and Dean can't pick him up. What will Dean do when his favorite (ex)angel turns up thoroughly wet at his front door?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wet

The remainder of Cas's grace burned out leaving him feeling empty, powerless and surprisingly alive. 

He hadn't yet worked out how he felt about that. It wasn't the way he'd planned it.

He was deposited, by a couple of well meaning angels, in a town about three miles from the bunker in Lebanon. They left him to fend for himself with no financial aid, no means of transportation and no word of advice. They barely even smiled before they were gone. No farewell. No wishing him luck. Cas starred at the spot where they had disappeared feeling a fleeting moment of anger. He almost felt like shaking his fist to the heavens - why couldn't they at least have deposited him outside of the bunkers doors? He supposed it was better this way, at least they wouldn't know the exact location of the Winchesters' whereabouts.

His irritation was quickly overridden by resignation and then more pressingly, desperation. 

He strode along the street just as the dark clouds above began to break. It was that fine kind of rain that nevertheless seemed to leave you drenched through after only a couple of minutes standing around in it. There was a pay phone on the corner of the street but Cas didn't have any change. He pulled open the door in spite of this, seeking some shelter beneath the enclosed panels. He leaned back against the box opposite the phone, closing his eyes as he listened to the rain pattering against the glass. It seemed to be getting heavier, the drops of water beating out a relentless rhythm that set Cas's heart thundering. What was he going to do?

He opened his eyes, glancing around distractedly, hoping to see something, anything, that could help him out of this situation. He didn't really expect to see anything which is why he let out a slight yelp of surprise when his eyes caught a faint glimmer of light against the edge of the road. His eyes flicked back over to the same spot again, squinting through the rain splattered windows, his close proximity causing it to fog up and cloud his vision further so that he couldn't be sure, not without a closer look.

He really didn't want to get any more wet than he already was but if that tiny twinkle midst all this monotonous grey was what he thought it was, then it would be worth the extra soaking. He scrambled out of the phone booth, darting over to the side of the road and crouching down besides a drain. Beneath the curb, a steady flow of water was beginning to ebb towards the open slats and there beneath its surface, a flash of silver. Cas scooped his hand beneath the water, bringing out some loose change. There was more than enough to make a phone call. He almost laughed at the absurdity of it.

Cas barricaded himself once more in the shelter of the phone booth, water dripping steadily from the beige trench coat as he shakily inserted coins into the slot, dialing a number he knew by heart.

There were several rings and then, 'Hello?' came a questioning voice from the other end of the line. Cas felt the way his lips stretched upwards in a warm smile he hadn't known he was about to make.

'Hello, Dean.'

'CAS! Are you all right? Where are you? What the hell, Cas? I've been going out of my mind-!'

'I'm fine, Dean. I'm human again. But I'm fine.'

'You're- you're human again?'

'Yes.' 

'Where are you?' Cas explained where the angels had dropped him off.

'Can you pick me up?'

'I can but it could be a while. We're on our way back from a hunt. We're at least an hour away and Sammy's injured-'

'I'm fine, Cas!' Cas heard the younger brother's voice interrupt over the intercom.

'No. You're not!' Dean contradicted irritably. 'You're gonna need at least ten stitches.' Castiel felt a fresh wave of powerlessness wash over him, this time accompanied by guilt. 

'It's- It's fine. I'll walk.'

'No, Cas. You can't. It's pouring down. Find yourself a seat in the diner and I'll get there as fast as I-'

'No, Dean. It's fine. I don't mind a walk. I'm under the impression that this town isn't far from your bunker. I'll meet you there.'

'Cas-!' Dean began warningly.

'This isn't up for debate.' Cas finished icily. He didn't want to be a burden on them, as well as being useless. Dean seemed to feel the implication of Cas's words because he gave up his argument. Instead he responded sulkily:

'All right! I get it. I'll see you whenever you get here-'

'All right-'

'But if you're not back in a couple of hours, I'm coming looking for you.' Dean warned.

'All right,' Cas agreed. 

They hung up their phones together and Cas stared momentarily at the hand set. It still seemed strange to him. Just seconds ago he had heard Dean's voice coming out of the speaker and it had almost felt like they were in the same room. But now his voice was gone and Cas might as well be a million miles away for all the closer he was getting to him, starring gormlessly out into the rain like he was in search of some magical solution. 

He really didn't want to go out into the rain but it didn't look as though it was going to stop anytime soon. He pushed open the door, feeling an unpleasant cold gust of wind hit his face as he did so. He groaned inwardly before stepping out onto asphalt. He began to walk down the street. Luckily he had passed by this area before so he knew which direction he was going in. 

One mile out and he was absolutely drenched through and the rain continued to pound down as hard as ever. He felt frozen to the bone, whatever waterproof protection his coat had to offer had long been rendered useless. It had got to the point in which the rain was actually stinging his face; it had been biting into him for so long. The sky was growing ever darker as evening set in and he knew he'd be lucky to reach the bunker by night fall. He found himself hoping that Dean would take pity on him after all.

Half a mile later, not really looking where he was going, Cas walked straight into a puddle that went half way up to his knees. The puddle was vast, stretching across three quarters of the road. He felt the water soak into his shoes, soaking his already wet feet and just as he was thinking he couldn't get any wetter, a truck blared speedily past, water splashing up around its wheels and thoroughly drenching an already unhappily shivering Castiel. 

He stood in the puddle, frozen for a second by the sheer shock of it. Feeling pathetic, Cas carried on walking, figuring that if he just kept concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, then he would reach his destination eventually. And that was the only thing worth thinking about because he couldn't do anything else.

Finally, a mile and a half later, cold, shivering and thoroughly wet, Castiel reached the bunker doors.

 

_

 

Dean finished stitching up Sam's leg and left his room to wait for Cas. He figured his brother had earned some undisturbed rest, at least for the night.

He walked out into the main room, intending on relaxing in one of the chairs but he found that he couldn't sit still. With nothing else to do, he began pacing back and forth across the room, every five minutes glancing up at the sealed entrance.

He wouldn't give it much longer.

Now that Sam was sorted there was no reason why he should. But Cas had sounded so determined on the phone and Dean thought he understood why.

To his utter relief, he didn't have to wait much longer before the bunker door began to creak inwards and Castiel's wet frame stepped into the room. Dean starred up at him and felt his mouth drop open slightly. It looked as though someone had recently tried to drown him. Dean was pretty sure the only place he'd seen a wetter human, was in the shower. Cas began to walk gingerly down the stairs towards him, the sound of water drizzling down from his trench to the steps almost comical, with its regulated pattern. Dean was gawping completely open mouthed when Cas came to a stop, stood directly in front of him. Neither said anything for a second, the only sound was Cas continuing to drip all over the floor. He looked miserable. His hair was dripping onto his face. He was shivering and he looked as though he couldn't move another inch. 

'Hello, Dean.'

Dean finally remembered to close his mouth. 'Cas, buddy,' he greeted shaking his head. 'I don't even-'

'Please. Don't say anything.'

Dean had to hold back a grin at that. Instead he nodded silently, moving forwards and helping a very disgruntled Castiel out of his sodding trench coat. He let it drop to the floor figuring they could wash all his clothes later. Next comes the suit jacket, Dean begins to form a steady pile of thoroughly saturated Cas clothes. Cas's white shirt was drenched through too, turning the fabric slightly see-through. Dean can see the faint lines of chest hair and quickly looks up at Cas's face to make sure this is still okay. Cas doesn't say anything, just carries on standing there looking thoroughly dejected. Dean begins to pull off his tie, starring into grateful blue eyes as he does so, finding himself unable to turn away and then he's tossing the tie onto the pile too. Next comes the shirt and Dean can't keep looking at Cas for this. He feels the faintest heat of a blush beginning to creep over his face but he bites it back determinedly. There should be nothing embarrassing about doing this. Cas certainly didn't seem to think so. He didn't object, didn't say a word, as Dean began to work his way down his shirt buttons. Although his eyes remained on Dean's face the entire time.

It seemed to take an eternity before Dean reached the bottom, the fabric coming away in two halves, his thumb absentmindedly skimming over damp skin and then he began to work the shirt over Cas's shoulders. It wasn't exactly easy, the cotton was clinging to him like a second skin. He yanked the shirt off of Cas's arms, throwing it on top of the wet clothes pile and then turning back to face Cas, only realizing as he did so, exactly how close together they were stood. 

He stepped back with a jerky graceless movement but he couldn't tear his eyes away. He found himself soaking up miles and miles of tan skin and dark chest hair that dwindled as it made its way southwards, petering out to a point as it disappeared under the hemline of Cas's dress trousers. 

That was when Dean realized exactly what he was doing and this time there was no hiding the pink flush to his cheeks. Cas starred back at him curiously. He didn't seem to take any offence to Dean's wondering eyes. Dean stepped forwards again, closely watching Cas's face as he began to undo the fly to his trousers. Cas blinked but still didn't say anything. Dean worked the pants down over his butt, his hands sliding gently over black briefs, all too aware of the firm ass cheeks so close beneath the fabric. Dean slowly crouches down, his hands gliding down the back of Cas's legs in a way that was almost worshipful, his neck slightly bent, eyes fixed firmly on Cas's knees, all too aware of the fact that Cas's crotch would only be half an inch from his nose should he choose to straighten up. Cas stepped out of his trousers and Dean threw them on top of the growing pile of clothes. He stared up at Cas's face from where he was kneeling on the floor. Cas was starring down at him bemusedly, a slight glint in his eyes. Dean took it for a challenge.

Biting his top lip as though the task at hand required a great deal of concentration, Dean raised his arms, hands on either side of Cas's waist, fingers curling beneath the elasticated waist band, tugging slowly downwards. He wouldn't close his eyes; instead he stared up unblinkingly at Cas's face. Cas stared back and neither made a sound as the briefs shifted southwards, loosening as they moved past the curve of Cas's butt and falling into a soft heap on the floor. Once more Cas stepped backwards and Dean, realizing he'd been unconsciously holding his breath, took a deep gulp of air as he looked away from Cas's face, throwing the final item of clothing on top of the pile.

He stood up, starring into his friend's face. Cas was stood there, head to toe naked and completely unabashed. He was, however, shivering so much that Dean wouldn't have been surprised if he'd gone blurry around the edges. Unthinkingly, Dean held out a hand and unquestioningly, Cas took it. Dean led Cas through the corridors of the bunker until they reached the shower room. They stepped into the room together, Dean turning on the shower, still holding firmly onto Cas's hand, it hasn't yet occurred to him that he could let go. He holds his other hand beneath the running water, gauging the temperature. When he finds it to be satisfactorily hot, he guides Cas under the steady stream of water, Cas stares at him, his blue eyes wide and almost questioning, he hasn't let go of Dean's hand and Dean feels him give a gentle tug. Dean allows himself to be propelled forward so that they're both stood under the hot spray, barely any space between their noses. The strong water quickly engulfing him with that oh so glorious pressure. That's when Dean realizes that he is still fully dressed. He was so absorbed in Cas's eyes, so wrapped up in everything that is Castiel, that he had neglected to notice it until he felt the warmth seep through his jeans. 

He grimaces at the uncomfortable sensation and begins to strip himself down. Cas watches wide eyed and silent, taking everything in from the moment Dean begins to unbutton his plaid shirt. He pulls his dark cotton tee over his head and flings them both out of the shower before undoing his own fly, letting the now heavy denim sink to the floor and taking his grey boxers with them. For the first time, Dean looks away from Cas as he kicks them out of the shower but then he turns back. Grass green eyes locked on ocean blue. Water streaming down both their backs, steam rising in ethereal cloud like whisps. Moisture collecting into Cas's hair, forming small beads which gradually thicken and fall from soft black curls. And Dean wants to reach forward and tug on them, caress the dribbles of liquid that stream down the sides of Cas's face and race down his arms and chest...

He doesn't let his mind wonder any further southwards than that. As it is, the tension between them had rapidly exacerbated the minute Dean removed his jeans, the metaphorical space between them stretched taught and growing ever dense. Dean doesn't think he'd be able to cope if he let his thoughts drift to their bare cocks, hanging less than a few inches from one another, water cascading over naked flesh and pooling around their ankles...

As it is, he's having trouble in that area. Can feel himself beginning to stiffen, knows he'll be lucky to get out of the shower without having come to at least half-mast. His breath catches jerkily as he realizes where he has allowed his thoughts to wonder. He blinks, realizing their hands are still linked and reaches behind Cas to turn off the shower. The steady water flow easing off. Dean steps out, Cas following close behind.

Dean finds a couple of soft towels and drapes one over Cas's shivering shoulders and the other around his own waist, momentarily letting go of Cas's hand but then determinedly taking hold of it again as he leads Cas to his own room.

Cas stands in front of the bed and doesn't say a word. Dean takes the towel from his shoulders and begins to dry him. He doesn't ask himself why he is doing all of this, can't allow his mind to go there because if he does, he's scared he'd run a mile. And then he might never have this again.

He ruffles over Cas's hair, gently dries over his face and then holds out his arms, ensuring the cotton buries into every crevice, toweling over every visible surface as he works his way down Cas chest. And then he's crouching down between Cas's legs again, breath held tight as he towels over Cas's crotch area and between his legs. He hears Cas's breath catch this time and feels a giddy swoop of satisfaction at its sound. Then he's toweling down Cas's legs, watching his dark leg hair dry beneath his touch. Motioning for Cas to take a seat on the edge of his bed as he gently towel dries his feet. He can feel Cas's eyes on him.

He stands up and turns his back to Cas as he moves over to his drawers and begins fumbling inside them, looking for something for his friend to wear. Eventually he pulls out a pair of soft grey jogging bottoms and a black Zeppelin tee. He sits down at Cas's ankles, stretching the fabric over his feet. Cas stands up, allowing Dean to pull the pants up his legs and over his butt, allowing himself to gently rake his fingers over firm skin as he does so. He watches Cas's face the whole time, waiting for some kind of objection but Cas merely smirks and Dean looks away smirking himself, unable to hide his glee but a little embarrassed about it just the same.

He yanks the t-shirt down unceremoniously over Cas's head allowing him to push his arms through himself. Dean admired his work, realizing he liked seeing Cas in his clothes, the way the jogging bottoms fell low on his hips, the slight bagginess of the tee...

They were still close together and Dean found himself drifting closer and closer into Cas's personal space, until Cas was forced to lean backwards. Dean found himself pushing Cas back against the bed, crawling on top of him, his legs straddling Cas's waist. Cas didn't put up even the slightest resistance, didn't say a word. Eyes flickered from one to the other, their faces oh so close together, the space of only a few millimeters. Breaths short, heavy and uneven...

And then Dean realized to his dismay that Cas was still shivering. 'Wait here a second,' he blurted out, jerking off of Cas and darting out of the room. 

He goes to the kitchen, figuring Cas needs a hot drink. He pours milk and cream into a pan and paces the kitchen floor as he waits for it to come to a boil.

His thoughts are a turmoil of mixed feelings. He can't believe what is happening between him and Cas, he hadn't set out for the night to turn out this way but now he has absolutely no desire to change things. He's been in love with his friend for years. Years! True, he'd been in denial for a long time but the truth was, Cas drove him crazy! He spent almost every waking moment consumed with thoughts about him... and yet he'd never done anything about it... he'd never been certain Cas felt the same way, never been willing to take that risk. Always been terrified of getting hurt...

And now here they were out of the blue, balancing on the edge of it. He didn't know why tonight. Maybe it was since Cas had regained his humanity, maybe it was just a bunch of lucky coincidences. Maybe he'd walk back into that room, hand over the hot chocolate and nothing would happen... 

Dean wouldn't accept that. 

He mixed cocoa powder and sugar in a couple of mugs with a little more milk until it formed a thick paste and then poured over the heated milk and cream mix, stirring until a rich chocolaty smell began to drift out of the mugs. He added a shot of caramel to each, stirring again and then topping with a little whipped cream. 

When Dean walked back into his bedroom, he found Cas sat up, perched on the side of his bed, starring contemplatively at the wall opposite. He blinked when Dean came in but didn't say a word, didn't turn to look at him... Dean walked cautiously over to his friend and sat down next to him, pressed up close by his side. He silently handed over one of the mugs of hot chocolate, taking a deep gulp from his own. Cas sips tentatively at his and Dean is awarded with a broad smile as Cas turns to look at him.

'It's delicious!' he says as though surprised, voice filled with wonderment. It's the first words he's spoken since he'd asked Dean not to speak earlier. Dean smiles back, adoring how much the ex-angel can appreciate something as every day as hot chocolate. He can't hold back anymore. He reached out with his spare hand to cup Cas's grizzled jaw and lean in, pressing his lips against Cas's pink chapped ones. Cas's lips formed an 'O' of surprise and then, delightfully began to move under Dean's own, kissing back enthusiastically.

Dean is disappointed when Cas breaks away from him but he merely takes Dean's mug from his hand and sets both of them down on the bedside table. Then he turns back to Dean, interlacing his fingers through the others hand and as though through some silent communication, lean back against the bed simultaneously, arms tangled up in one another, lips locked firmly together. 

 

_

 

Later Sam got up for a glass of water, passing by the main room on his way back to bed. He paused as his eyes caught on the bundle of fabric in the middle of the room. He squinted at it for a second, wondering what it was. And then he made out the beige outline of a familiar trench coat peeking out from underneath. He stared at the clothes for a second, particularly at the pair of black briefs neatly topping the pile.

Sam walked back to bed grinning to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this, I really hope you enjoyed it. I've been battling over whether to leave it there or whether to add a little smutt to the end. It seems a little cruel leaving it as it is, although this is how I originally planned it. Let me know what you think, I always love to hear feedback.
> 
> Love, Jems xxx
> 
> (P.S. You can find me on Tumblr at: onceuponadestiel. Come and have a look and drop me a message! Jems X)


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